Post #100: Lending a Hand

Sunday, January 30 to February 4, 2022

We left Warderick Wells on a gorgeous Sunday morning and sailed to Staniel Cay.  I wrote about it last year (see post # 69). This time we simply enjoyed lunch at the Staniel Cay Yacht Club, got fuel and fresh food. I took these photos on the walk to the Blue Store and the Pink Store for provisions but have no idea what these beautiful plants are:

We also caught an unexpected view of the SpaceX launch on Monday night!

We all agreed to once again have a “fun race” to Black Point, some 10 miles further south on Tuesday morning. You could use your engine only to raise and lower the anchor and rely on the wind for everything else. 

I’m not sure my husband understands the phrase “fun race” because this soon became a competition of near-Olympian proportions. Two Canadian boats have joined our flotilla—Refuge (a Dehler 39) from Toronto and Cielo (a J 120 from Quebec). So I’m sure you can appreciate that this became a matter of national honor. To make things more of a challenge, we were the next to last ones off anchor so David trimmed the sails and took off as quickly as possible, focused on overtaking each boat ahead of us. The last boat to leave, Cielo, simply blew past us within a half hour and we knew we didn’t stand a chance of catching up to her. However, we took the silver by passing Refuge just before we arrived at the harbor.  

To achieve this moment of glory and national pride, we were close-hauled and heeled over for most of the run. This means that everything below has to be carefully secured, cabinets locked, and valuables stowed so that nothing falls or slips and is damaged. This was a bit tricky, however, because I had made the particularly foolish mistake of thinking I could make focaccia Tuesday after the race. I had to find a safe, level place to raise the dough while underway. As you can see below, I was able to wedge the pan so that the dough was fairly level even though the boat was not! 

Once we anchored at Black Point, the boat righted itself, of course. Consumed with the flush of (near) victory, I forgot to check on the bread dough and remove the items I’d wedged underneath it. Fortunately, I remembered in time before we had a blob of focaccia dough covering the shelf!

We really enjoyed spending time at Black Point (see Post #70) last year. Only about 150 folks live on the island and they are so friendly and welcoming that we felt at home. Wednesday night we had the buffet at Lorraine’s and formed a conga line to celebrate. (Sorry, no photos or videos will be shared of this event. Evah!) Thursday found us at Scorpio’s, the local watering hole, enjoying happy hour and (wait for it)…Bingo! (Wouldn’t Aunt Harriet be proud, Ron?)  Our group of fellow travelers has grown so much that Scorpio’s ran out of markers and we had to improvise:

I did overhear one of our younger friends (in her 50’s) lament, “OMG, I’m in bed by 9 p.m. (cruiser’s midnight) and now I’m playing bingo. What’s happening to me???

Lest you think all we do is party, here’s a view from the beach we hiked to—5 miles round trip and worth every step:

We also spend time helping each other out. So far, our group has had to solve problems relating to refrigeration, canvas repair, dinghy engine failures, leaky toilets, blocked up hoses, propane systems, solar panels, etc., etc. With no hardware or marine supply stores to visit and no Amazon deliveries, we have to rely on each other’s willingness to share spare parts, expertise, experience, and collaborative problem-solving skills. 

This holds true for those living on the islands, too. One of the residents of Black Point posted a call for help on a FB group and a bunch of cruisers volunteered to help him put a plastic roof on his new, large chicken coop:

Sometimes I think we all need to stop and reflect upon just how interdependent we all are. Truly, no man is an island.